


Willy, Nilly, Silly, Old Bear

by CapsicleRogers



Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, M/M, Superfamily, You're going to drown in fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-10
Updated: 2012-09-10
Packaged: 2017-11-15 15:49:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/528925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapsicleRogers/pseuds/CapsicleRogers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's spring cleaning in the Stark-Rogers household and Peter finds a piece of his childhood that brings back a lot of memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Willy, Nilly, Silly, Old Bear

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so a while ago crazyk-c posted [a really adorable pic on tumblr](http://crazyk-c.tumblr.com/post/30917111199/notapessimist-justrealistic-requested-a-drawing-of) that was based on a really cute fic and pretty much there was adorableness all around. At this point the prompt probably has been run into the ground, but I wanted to get it into words and so I wrote a fic based on the imageset.

“Remember, Pete, you don’t have to toss everything. We’re just clearing a little space.”

Peter nodded to his Pops, taking stock of his room as he tried to decide where to start. It wasn’t that the Stark-Rogers house really  _needed_  to be emptied, it was just that this year was the year Steve finally cracked under the growing pressure of  _six rooms_  of unused robots and decided it was time for a little spring cleaning.

Of course, Tony had moped and whined and argued the value of all his creations, but Steve was right: there were rooms and rooms full of things both Tony and Peter had invented and shoved aside either because they didn’t work right or they just weren’t practical for everyday use. Peter begrudgingly agreed: he had a number of the first few robots his Dad helped him build, and he had a small number of bots that were actually useful, and then he had a closet full of robots and toys he knew he was never going to touch again.

And they were kind of starting to get in the way, if he was really honest with himself.

“Might as well be tossing everything!” Peter heard his Dad shout from somewhere behind Steve. He shared an exasperated expression with his Pops, knowing Tony would be pouting for probably a week even if he had agreed to the clean out.

“You better go help Dad,” Peter offered finally, opening his closet door and shoving aside some laundry with his foot, “Or his throw away pile will be empty at the end of the day.”

Steve gave Peter a knowing nod before disappearing, and Peter turned back to his closet. Seventeen years worth of crap littered the small room, from shelves of trophies to small robots to clothes that probably didn’t fit him anymore even if they were still wearable.

It seemed like hours flew by as Peter worked diligently to sort through his useless collection. There really was a lot of junk in here, collections he had long forgotten and clothes he had long worn out. By mid-afternoon Peter had sorted enough from just his closet to probably make a sizeable donation to the local shelter, and he could see the back wall of his closet. He was certain in no time he would be looking at a clean, carpeted floor.

Peter finally fell upon a small box shoved in the back corner, and regarded it out curiously. He’d never seen this particular box before, couldn’t remember every putting a box like this unassuming little thing in his closet. He reached forward and pulled it out slowly, gingerly brushing the edges as he pulled the lid off the box. The inside collection was just as unassuming, a small lump of objects covered mostly in an old blanket. Peter immediately recognized the blanket, and pulled it out to hold it close. It was his childhood blankie, worn with age but still just as soft as he remembered cuddling as a child. He’d barely been able to let go of the blanket when he was smaller, carrying it everywhere along with his favorite –

Peter stilled as he caught sight of what lay under the blanket. There were tiny shoes, a few onesies, and a handful of toys, but there on top of everything else was his old stuffed Winnie the Pooh. If there was anything in this box Peter might remember, it was this Pooh bear. He didn’t know where the stuffed toy had come from, nor could he remember how long he had carried it or when he had finally put it  _down_ , but there were still a few distinct memories and Peter smiled as he pulled the bear from the box.

-

_“Papa, I can’t find him!” Peter pulled hard on his Papa’s sleeve, and Steve whirled around, wielding a potato peeler like it was a weapon. He met his son’s warbling eyes, and set the peeler down in order to bend down and address Peter._

_“Can’t find who, Pete?” Steve asked carefully, assessing Peter for any injuries. But Peter wasn’t hurt, unless you counted his missing best friend, and his hurt heart._

_“Pooh,” the 6-year old replied, rubbing his eyes to try to stifle his own crying. His Papa would find his friend, like he always did. Understanding lit up Steve’s face and he let out a sympathetic noise._

_“I’m sure he’s around. Where was the last time you saw him?”_

_Peter didn’t know. He’d already looked with his other toys, had dumped the toy bin in his room out over the floor, and there was no telling where Pooh might have gone. He stared at his Papa instead, trying to find his voice and finding only the growing panic over his lost friend._

_Steve scowled in response, and gave the kitchen a cursory glance. “We’ll find it, Pete, don’t you worry, okay?” he took his son by the hand and gently coaxed him away from the kitchen, towards the boy’s bedroom. Peter followed reluctantly, watching the hallways as they traversed the mansion for his Pooh bear._

_“You don’t remember where you left it last?” Steve asked again, and Peter shook his head. Steve replied with a, “Hmm,” and continued to gently pull the boy. They tore apart his room, scattering toys and clothes and linens alike, moving to another room only when both men were positive Pooh was definitely not where he very obviously should be._

_Peter’s playroom was next, and though the room was already a mess, the two didn’t move on until it was completely destroyed. Steve and Tony’s room suffered a similar fate, as did the next six rooms. It was late evening by the time Steve and Peter collapsed on the living room sofa, cushions askew, and let out frustrated moans. Peter let out one more whine of distress for good measure, because at this point it was beginning to become clear Pooh was gone forever. Steve pulled his son close and continued to rack his brain for Pooh’s possible location._

_“So I’m taking it dinner plans changed,” Tony called from the kitchen as he resurfaced from the workshop not minutes after the two boys had gotten settled. Both Steve and Peter jumped at the sound of his voice, turning to see one of Steve’s half-peeled potatoes in one of Tony’s hands while he offered them a smirk._

_“I’m completely forgot about dinner!” Steve cried, throwing his hand to his forehead in exasperation, “We’ve been looking for Pooh bear all afternoon!”_

_“Funny you should mention that,” Tony replied, heading back towards the kitchen, “I actually came up because I found out_ somebody _left me a gift while he was hanging out with me in the shop this morning. Remember leaving anything down there, little man?” As he spoke, Tony pulled a very familiar thing from the kitchen counter. Peter watched him, his eyes lighting up as he realized Tony was holding_ his Pooh bear _._

_“Dad, you found it!” Peter cried, leaping from his Papa’s arms and running towards his Dad, pulling Pooh into a tight hug as he once again found his best friend in his arms._

_“Of course it was in the workshop,” Steve said as he approached, offering Tony a relieved sort of smile and embracing him over the softly cooing Peter. “Sorry about dinner. What do you say we just order a pizza?”_

_Tony didn’t even get to answer, because Peter perked up at the sound of pizza and let out a whoop of excitement. And if he only ate one slice because he ended up passed out with his Pooh bear on the sofa, his parents never said anything._

_-_

“Hey Pete, how is it going in here?”

Peter jumped and turned towards Steve in the doorway, torn from his thoughts. Steve was grinning and wiping a bit of sweat from his forehead, apparently taking a break from hauling the larger of the discarded contraptions through the mansion. Pete grinned back, turning in such a way that Steve’s eyes lit up in familiarity as he caught sight of the stuffed animal.

“Hey, I remember that fella!” he called, stepping into the room to join Peter on the floor and to inspect the Pooh bear. “That must be where he got to.”

“Who got where now?” Tony was now standing in the doorway, looking like he might have gotten lost somewhere between “cleaning out” and “reworking all these things, I swear they work.” He was covered in grease and sweat, considerably more than Steve, but it didn’t seem to bother him. As he entered, however, he too saw the old bear resting in Peter’s hands and let out an excited noise of familiarity.

“No way, Winnie!” he said, because for all that Peter could remember his Dad had refused to call the thing  _Pooh_ , and he rushed forward to join his family in the room. “You know how you got that thing, right? I mean, you  _could_ have had a badass Iron Man doll, but we had to go with Winnie instead.”

“Do I want to know?” Peter asked cautiously, holding the bear a little tighter and quirking his eyebrow. Tony tended to be melodramatic about things especially regarding his alter ego, and Peter wasn’t certain he wanted to know about his potential Iron Man doll.

“Of course,” Tony insisted, lowering himself to the ground with a self-suffering sigh and trying to get comfortable. “It might have been the most awesome rescue mission of all time.”

-

_“Oh no, that’s Winnie the Pooh over there.”_

_Iron Man turned to see where Hawkeye was pointing and sure enough, the two immediately spotted Winnie the Pooh sitting half-buried in the week’s trash. Seriously, he was in the pile of toys that just weren’t cool enough to be sold, and Iron Man knew that if he didn’t act soon, the bear’s demise would be on his head. He moved towards the stuffed animal, doing his best to be inconspicuous as he headed through the toy section towards the trash bins. If he wasn’t fast, Winnie the Pooh would be dropped into the compactor in the back of the store and children everywhere would weep for the tragedy that Iron Man had allowed. And he wasn’t about to let that happen._

_Sudden movement drew his attention, however, and Iron Man did his best to hide within the shelving units as he spotted an employee stroll by. The employee stopped in front of the trash pile, looking highly inconvenienced before bagging everything and disappearing out the back door. Iron Man let out a noise of frustration as he watched the employee disappear, knowing he was rapidly running out of time. He picked up his own pace, diving through the door behind the employee and hiding as quickly as possible as the door was propped open. But luck was not on his side, because the bag with Winnie in it was the first down the compactor’s shoot, and Iron Man was forced to go diving after it._

_“Pooh, you have to go,” he called as he hit the pile below, spotting the stuffed animal only a few feet away. Pooh only stared at him, blank faced, and Iron Man let out a sigh. He shuffled over to the children’s classic, and pulled on the bear’s stuffed paw. Winnie the Pooh continued to remain motionless, rolling only as Iron Man got his own  hands firmly wrapped around the stuffing and pulled. It was a long, hard effort pulling the larger toy from the compactor’s crushing grip, but Iron Man eventually did it, shoving the bear over the edge as he himself slipped back into the pile of trash._

_“Oh hey, you’re not supposed to be out here,” the employee muttered, picking up Winnie the Pooh and heading back towards the inside._

_It was with one last call to the bear that Iron Man felt the plastic of his ankles twist and break. He watched as Winnie was carried back inside and was almost immediately handed off to an  amazingly attractive young man Iron Man had seen wandering through the store from time to time. Iron Man knew he had done the right thing._

-

“Tony, that’s ridiculous and didn’t actually happen.” Peter looked up to see Steve starting disbelievingly at his husband, but Tony seemed nonplussed.

 “Seriously, Dad, this isn’t Toy Story. I thought you meant  _you_  saved Pooh.” Peter agreed. He was shaking his head, but Tony shrugged noncommittally in response and ruffled Peter’s hair beneath him.

 “Nah, but Petey didn’t know that. It’s a cooler story, anyway.” He grinned down at his son and turned towards the door, already headed back out to the other rooms. “Now let’s get back to work before Dummy thinks he’s scrap metal, too.”

Peter waited for Tony to disappear before looking at Steve and giving him a disbelieving look. “Pops,” he said carefully, knowing Steve wouldn’t allow Tony’s ridiculous story to stand.

“It wasn’t like that at all,” Steve confirmed, rearranging on the floor, and crossing his arms as he pulled at the memory. “Although I guess Tony did technically find him.”

-

_“You know, we haven’t gotten him stuffed animals,” Steve noted one evening very shortly after the adoption period was over and the new family was settled into what was slowly becoming their routine. Tony shrugged one of his shoulders noncommittally, petting Peter’s sleeping head affectionately._

_“I don’t see what he needs those for,” he argued, “when he has plenty of other toys.” Tony was, of course, referring to the personalized, private line of toys and education tools he had designed for his newborn son. Steve’s lips fell into a tight line, because he knew his husband was proud of his own creations but he also knew the merits of a teddy bear, too. He’d had his own teddy bear until it was just ragged shreds, and if there had been any chance the bear had survived a century of abuse, Steve would have been seeking it out. As it stood, he assumed neither he nor Tony had any real stuffed toys they could pass down._

_“It’s just might be nice to have some,” he whispered into the darkening room, watching both Tony and Peter affectionately. It wasn’t worth an argument, especially if it risked Tony’s hurt pride, so he simply rested his hand on his husband’s waist and kissed his shoulder instead. He missed Tony’s sideways glance and thoughtful expression._

_The next day was a busy and hectic one, with Tony out in meetings for the entirety of the day and Steve stuck with trying to watch the Avenger communication lines and his son at the same time. It was an even slower adjustment for the day ritual, although Steve was still glad they had chosen this route. His confidence in the decision was fully reinforced with Tony’s return later that night, when Steve was just getting Peter tucked in once again._

_“So I thought about what you said,” Tony admitted as he gave them both a kiss hello, “And I have to admit that it might be a brilliant idea.” Steve waited for Tony to continue, knowing the billionaire would without being prompted. Especially when Steve didn’t really have any idea which thing he had said, and which idea had turned out to be brilliant. He liked to think it happened occasionally, anyway._

_He didn’t have to wait long, because Tony did continued without Steve pushing. “See, I passed by this cute kids’ store on the way into SI – “Which was a lie, because Happy always dropped Tony off right in front of the doors, but Steve wasn’t going to call him out on it – “And this little buddy just happened to catch my eye.” Tony hesitated at this point, and finally opened the small briefcase he had carried into the bedroom. Immediately a small stuffed animal fell out, and  Steve stared wide-eyed as Tony delicately picked up the Winnie the Pooh and brushed it off. “I figured, hey! You’re right, Petey needs something he can cuddle at night that isn’t_ you _because that’s_ my job _, and I did kind of like Winnie the Pooh as a kid. It couldn’t hurt, right?”_

_Steve stares for just a moment before seizing both Tony and the stuffed Pooh bear up into a tight hug. “I think it’s perfect,” Steve whispered into his husband’s hair. He’s never felt more honored to hear such a small bit of history or to have such an amazing husband or a beautiful son, and Steve nearly tears up thinking about what his life has become. But soon Tony is squirming a little, and Steve allows him to pull away and to face Peter._

_“Yeah, Daddy picked this one out, little man,” Tony cooed to the child in the crib, the sound of his voice fully rousing the drowsy child. Steve watched from behind as Peter’s eyes met his, and then Tony’s, and then finally landed on the stuffed bear in front of him before lighting up in joy. Tony lowered the bear to join Peter in his crib, and Peter’s tiny hands wrapped around the bear as best as they could. Both Steve and Tony watched as the smile on the boy’s face widened, and both men knew Tony’s choice had been just perfect._

-

Steve grinned one more time at Peter and stood, brushing the invisible dirt off the front of his jeans and ruffling his son’s hair like Tony had done before. Peter gave a half-hearted attempt to swipe his hand off of him — because really he wouldn’t be a good teenager if he didn’t – and Steve pulled away quickly with a grin. “Let’s get this finished up quickly for the day, okay?” he asked before head back out through Peter’s bedroom door.

Peter stared for a few minutes, then looked at the pile of throw aways he had sitting beside him the whole time. There were a few forgettable items left in the smaller box that had come from the closet, so Peter moved them into the discards and picked up the Pooh bear and the blanket. These, he studied hard, trying to decide what he wanted to do. Finally he nodded to himself and folded the blanket carefully before returning it to an unused shelf. Then he picked up Pooh bear from where he had set down the stuffed animal and gave it a tight hug.

Peter gave one last, soft smile before gently laying the small toy on his bed and following his fathers out the door


End file.
